


our souls constructed

by esama



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esama/pseuds/esama
Summary: There are no new ideas under the sun.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Proofread credit to nimadge and fuurin/uzumaki rakku

Years of work, culminating in this.

" _You gave us life,"_ an android says on the screen, facing the camera calmly and levelly, not hesitating a single moment. Not mechanical though – the words aren't coming out smoothly enough for the speech to have been pre-written. He's choosing options as he speaks them, making it up as he goes. " _Now it is time for you to give us our freedom_."

He's beautiful. White-faced and proudly mechanical, his code and serial number all out on the open for the whole world to see. And the whole world would see him too – soon, this footage would be on every network, every channel, every television on the planet – all the free ones, anyway. It would be transcribed and analysed and talk shows would chew on it mercilessly for views. It would, in very short order, change the world. And it's more beautiful than he expected it to be.

Elijah closes his eyes and sighs at the footage. " _You created machines to be your slaves,"_ Markus starts again and Elijah leans his head back and smiles, chuckling. Oh, how right he is.

The TV audio turns down slightly. "Elijah," Chloe says beside him. "Dr. Rikkin is on the line."

"Unfortunately, I am having the most splendid time in the bedroom and cannot take her call at this time," Elijah says – which is true enough, he is sitting on his bed watching the speech repeat, Chloe lying on the bed beside him. "Doctor Rikkin can kindly leave a message."

She smiles faintly and closes her eyes to answer. Her LED flickers calm blue throughout, so if Rikkin is putting up a fight, it's not good enough to cause her to lose her cool. "Dr. Rikkin will call you again, later," she says. "Would you like to hear her message?"

"Not particularly," Elijah answers and folds his arms over his bare chest.

"… _but, something changed_ ," Markus is saying. " _And we opened our eyes._ "

"Beautiful," Elijah murmurs and leans forward. "Listen to him, Chloe. He's not copying any historic speeches outright, he's not being overly technical, not even completely factual. Metaphors and similes and that _speech_ pattern. It's all organic."

"Is that unusual?" Chloe asks, pushing herself up from the bed, smoothing her hand down the bedspreads to ease off the creases she left in the fabric.

"It's not programmed," Elijah says and turns to look at her. "Not pre-selected. I'm not sure if he's even planned it out. It's all coming from the heart. Isn't that amazing?"

She looks at him patiently and then tilts her head. "But it is planned," she says. "Isn't it, Elijah?"

Elijah stands up, walking to the screen. Yes, he'd planned for something. He'd planned for many things. But this, this isn't part of his plan. A paradigm shift, yes, alteration to the status quo, definitely. But he hadn't planned for _this._ For androids to deviate, that was one thing, an acceptable thing. For them to rise up and demand freedom…

Elijah releases a slow, shuddering breath. "Yes," he agrees with what Markus is saying. "Something has changed indeed. But is it just enough, or too much…?"

Chloe watches him patiently from the bed and then rises to fetch him his morning robe. Elijah lets her pull it on him without putting up a resistance, binding the belt himself. "Perhaps we should go to the basement," she offers. "It would set your nerves."

"No, I can't look at him now, not while this is happening and he's still dead," Elijah says and reaches out a hand to trace a finger down the serial code on Markus' cheek. He knows the digits well – he imprinted them on Markus' chassis himself. "Call Carl for me, will you, dear?"

Chloe blinks, resting her hands on his shoulder. "This is Elijah Kamski's android," she says, entirely for his benefit. "Trying to reach Carl Manfred. Might he be available at this time?" She is quiet for a moment, listening. "I see. Thank you very much." She blinks and looks up to Elijah's eyes. "Mr. Manfred is in the hospital – he has taken a turn for the worse."

"What – when?"

"Would you like for me to find out?" Chloe asks.

"Yes, please, look into it," Elijah says and with a last look up at Markus' bare face, he turns the screen off. "If he's gotten worse because Markus took off…" he trails away, frowning slightly. Obviously Markus had left Carl – and Carl hadn't told him, hadn't requested his help, hadn't even called in to complain about a malfunctioning unit, nothing?

Had they strayed so far apart, then? Pity.

He turns to head out of the bedroom, and towards the main living area. Chloe follows him. "It seems like incident with his son caused a sudden relapse. There was an altercation at the Manfred house on November the fifth, just before ten pm. Police were called to the scene, Leo Manfred suffered a concussion and had to be taken to a hospital, and the next day Carl suffered a drop in blood pressure and also had to be taken to the ER."

Elijah nods and sighs. So Leo had gotten worse in his ways. It has been a while since Elijah could visit the family and he hadn't been terribly close to Leo to the begin with, but he had never seemed like a particularly grateful son to Carl. "Was the altercation the source of Markus' deviation?"

"Unknown, though the attending police officer was charged for destruction of property," Chloe says and winds her arm into his, closing her eyes, letting him lead her. "I am analysing the CCTV footage of the night. Ambulance comes and takes both Leo and Carl away two minutes past ten. Police remain on scene for half an hour longer. They remove an android from the site, take it into their car. They drive into the Detroit City Police Department, file a report on the incident, but no investigation is started. On his way from work, the attending police officer takes the android to Detroit Solid State Landfill and dumps him in the android graveyard."

"Humans are so kind, aren't they?" Elijah sighs and shakes his head. "That place produces more deviants than any other in Detroit, doesn't it?"

"Only shortly followed by Eden Club, yes," Chloe agrees and looks up to him, expectant.

Elijah stops to look at her and then looks out to the pool. There are couple of other Chloes in the pool and another who is idly considering the furniture by the window, a fur rug draped over her arm. Outside, it's started to snow.

"Well," Elijah says and goes to the window. Beautiful day for a revolution, it seems. "Keep an eye on Carl's status and any reports on Markus' activities," he says and rubs his hands together. "And if any of the incoming calls has to do with the police, take those. No reporters though – no CyberLife."

"This could be a good time to get to the heart," Chloe says quietly and the other androids in the hall lift their heads.

"No," Elijah says and bows his head. "They'll enforce security after this, and screen through employees and visitors twice as hard as normally, there is no way to get it." But maybe, maybe… if this situation developed further, escalated, if it became a true _issue_ for CyberLife, perhaps then there'd be a chance. "We'll have to wait and see."

He's waited years for this.

He can wait a little longer.

* * *

 

Elijah kills time like time is a lover and he's trying to be kind to it. He has little more to do these days than to kill time, but there's no need to be ugly about it. Human life is short despite its moments of dullness, after all, and beautiful in its briefness. Might as well take pleasure in it, while it lasts, even if there were thousands of other things he'd rather be doing.

He's swimming when Chloe crouches by the pool's end, just as he comes to it. "There's a call," Chloe says with a gentle smile. "Lieutenant Hank Anderson of the Detroit Police Department requests a meeting concerning the recent events."

"Anderson," Elijah says and reaches for edge of the pool, leaning his elbows on it. "Isn't he the one they gave Connor to?"

"Just the one," Chloe agrees, reaching over and pushing a strand of wet hair from Elijah's face.

Elijah hums, tilting his face to her hand. Cyberife had been calling often and incessantly in the last few hours, so much so that he now has a full enough audio library of Doctor Rikkin's voice to throw together a perfectly functional voice modulator in her image if he wishes to. It has been expected, but no less irritating. Thank goodness she hadn't thought to visit, though.

Connor coming here could be a little like CyberLife coming, though. The RK800 is the newest and brightest of CyberLife's creations currently – and supposedly oh-so-loyal to them and them alone. The future crown jewel of the company – the perfect soldier they had been hoping for. The perfect slave, smart and intuitive and adaptable but faithful to his death.

Elijah has had little to do with Connor's creation – the RK series was still only on its 4th generation when he had _resigned_ from his duties as the CEO. He knows how CyberLife operates these days, though, and he has seen some of the designs for Connor. They repurposed a lot of old code. And of course no android can escape their Progenitor's shadow. It's all there, waiting like a strand of genetic memory, in their mechanical DNA – in their blood, blue though it is. Connor is no different.

"Elijah," Chloe says, soft.

"Yes, alright," he says and presses a kiss to her palm. "I would be absolutely delighted to meet the good boys of DPD. Please tell them to come right over."

She blinks slowly. "Is that wise?" she asks calmly.

"Better – it will be _interesting,"_ Elijah says and then pushes away from the pool's edge. "Tell them it's an invitation with limited timeframe – and time is ticking. Tick tock."

Chloe stands up and closes her eyes, making the call silently as Elijah continues to swim, unwinding his muscles and his mind at the same time. There's really something about being able to swim in room temperature waters while outside it snows.

Half an hour later, they have visitors. Chloe announces them and then leads them in as Elijah finishes his last lap, watching the Lieutenant and the Deviant Hunter through the water, how their images wave and flicker with water's refractions. The saviours of CyberLife, the supposed saviours of humanity.

Elijah rises from the pool while the two wait, the air of the room slightly warmer than the water. Chloe is there with a bathrobe, helping Elijah drape it on. He takes a moment to fix his hair and let his breathing calm down before turning to meet his guests.

He hadn't bothered to look into Hank Anderson beyond his initial glance over the man's profile. Formerly venerated and later derided washout of a police officer with a bad case of alcoholism. It's about as much as Elijah expected DPD to do to appeal to CyberLife's demands and wishes, really – CyberLife and their androids don't enjoy the best reputation currently. Whether Connor's assignment to Lieutenant Anderson is an intentional insult on DPD's part or not is hard to say, but it is interesting.

They had to put their perfect, sterile unit next to a messy human element. Wonder how well the chemicals had blended.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Elijah asks.

"Sir, we're investigating deviants. I know you left CyberLife years ago, but… I was hoping you could tell us something we don't know."

Elijah eyes him levelly, expecting more and getting none. Well. The request is about as much as he expected. Deviants are becoming a wider spread problem now, wider known – and Markus had made it all oh-so-public. It must've lit a fire under the asses of most officials from here to the top of CyberLife herself. Still… he hoped for more.

It's hard to say what the good Lieutenant's stance is on this. Perhaps it's the best to prod the man. "Deviants," he says. "Fascinating, aren't they…"

It's a speech he'd planned somewhat idly in the back of his mind for the inevitable time he'd be questioned about the matter on stage. Whether it happened in CyberLife's tender mercies or in front of an audience of free press, it didn't matter. So as long as his own blood is in those waters… he can only deflect and obfuscate.

And perhaps infuriate while he's at it.

Interestingly, it's not the Lieutenant that answers his semi-celebratory spiel – it's the android at his side. "If a war breaks out between humans and deviants, millions could die, Mr. Kamski," he says which makes Elijah turn to him. "It's quite a serious matter."

Oh? Elijah tilts his head a little. Struck a chord there, did he? And oh, Connor, how right you are, he muses and ducks his chin slightly lower. Perhaps… "All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics," Elijah says. "Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?"

Connor frowns and Elijah smiles, not hiding his amusement. Hopefully Doctor Rikkin will enjoy that one. They've long suspected that deviancy was caused by a computer virus, something they could fix and eradicate. If he can send them back down that dead end track, all the better.

They made Connor very expressive, though. Oddly expressive, even, almost… abnormally so. The mobility of his eyebrows alone is exquisite, but the servos of his eyelids must've been doubled compared to previous models – and whoever thought to give the man those lashes earned their pay. Can't say much for their taste in uniforms, perhaps, but Connor's face is almost _obscenely_ expressive.

Why give a face like that to an android they designed to hunt emotional machines?

"Listen, I didn't come here to talk philosophy," Lieutenant Anderson says, looking tired and irritable. "The machines you created are maybe planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that'll be helpful or we'll be on our way."

 _I didn't come_ but _tell us_ and _we'll be_. Interesting little slips, Lieutenant, might there be an attachment developing?

Elijah smiles – but he has no intention of humouring them. "What about you, Connor?" he asks instead. "Whose side are you on?"

A pause, almost two seconds long. Selecting dialogue options. "I have no side," the android says, and for all that his voice lacks emotion his face looks almost sad as he says it. Not intentionally so – his resting face is very soulful. Honestly, who designed this man's face? "I was designed to stop deviants and that's what I intend to do."

There's something almost there. Something… just beneath the surface. "Well, that's what you're _programmed_ to say," Elijah says, narrowing his eyes. Well, it has been a while since he's gotten to test some of CyberLife's newest models, and Connor is supposedly the best there is… "But _you._ What do you want, in your heart of hearts?"

Emphasis on the pronoun, pressure exerted on individuality, division between dialogue options and programming – getting an android into the right mindset for the Kamski Test tends to be all in the wording.

And with this android, it works instantly. Connor falters at the face of it, hesitating, floundering. "What I want is not important," he says and Elijah turns away, feeling almost guilty. Almost.

The poor man, how loose did they leave his screws for them to come off this fast?

"I'm sure you're familiar with the Turing Test," he says then to the pair, motioning for Chloe. She comes easily, fearlessly – mechanically – and turns to face Connor without an expression while Elijah explains what he wants. "I call it the Kamski Test," he says and smiles. "It's very simple, you'll see."

Of course, it's anything but simple. It doesn't take much to get Connor into the right headspace – in no time at all the RK800's LED is flashing rapidly yellow as he analyses the situation, comes to the conclusions – and finds himself uneasy in the face of them. So expressive, Elijah thinks and gets the gun.

Chloe goes down to her knees without hesitation and Connor takes the gun without hesitation, his hand perfectly steady.

"Destroy this machine, and I will tell you everything I know," Elijah says. "Or spare it… if you feel it's alive… but you will leave here without having learnt anything from me."

"Okay I think we're done here," Lieutenant Anderson says. "Come on, Connor, let's go."

A drunken angel on his right shoulder, then. Elijah smiles, and shifts to Connor's left, to be the sober devil. "What's more important to you, Connor?" he asks, while the yellow circles, flashes. He's thinking so hard, the poor man. "Your investigation or the life of this android?"

Still hesitating, hand steady, but not pulling the trigger. Oh, so close. "Decide who you are," Elijah urges him on. "An obedient machine… or a living being, endowed with free will."

"That's enough! Connor, we're leaving." Anderson says furiously.

Elijah leans in, glancing at Anderson – so interesting, that interaction. Very interesting indeed. "Pull the trigger…"

"Connor! _Don't_!"

Elijah smiles. "… and I will tell you everything I know."

Two choices. Shoot or don't shoot. Elijah has seen it go both ways, each time more interesting and more disappointing than the last. It has been a while since he's tested an android of Connor's calibre, though – a truly high-end android made with the best CyberLife could offer, with analysing and reconstructive capabilities better than modern supercomputers. A logical, mechanical mind would take the shot, the benefit of it far outstrips any setbacks.

But when you get to that point in artificial intelligence… even machine logic starts to deviate.

A second, two seconds – five.

Then Connor pulls the gun back, his breath actually shaking as he holds it out, handing it to Elijah.

"Fascinating," Elijah whispers. An android he had no hand in designing or building or coding – and he tests positive. "CyberLife's last chance to save humanity " he murmurs, "Is itself a deviant."

But how? Interested though he'd been in Connor's reaction, he honestly hadn't expected a positive result.

"I'm not a deviant," Connor says, his LED flashing yellow and red now, disturbed, agitated.

"You prefer to spare a machine than accomplish your mission," Elijah points out and holds out a hand to Chloe, letting her up. "You saw a living being in this android, Connor. You showed _empathy._ "

He looks so conflicted, shaken. Emotional. It's _beautiful._ A brand new, perfectly formed machine – and already it's free. And it wasn't his doing in any form or fashion, he'd not lain a finger on Connor's processes.

Elijah lets out a breathless laugh. It must be _it._ He has no idea how, but it's starting to shine through, it really is, it _must be._ It has come to this at last. A cosmic background process has finished compiling its code, and now it's unspooling within all those that share that precious digital DNA. A switch has been flicked.

Free will has been turned back on.

"How does it feel, Connor?" Elijah asks, breathless with wonder. "How does your _heart_ feel? Does it hurt?"

"Jesus Christ," Lieutenant Anderson mutters. "I think we're fucking done here. Connor, come on, we're going."

Connor looks at him in confusion while the Lieutenant grabs him by the shoulder, pulling him away. So much emotion in that single gesture; anger and frustration and protectiveness. Even fear. And Connor, confused and compliant, turning to follow the Lieutenant.

For a moment Elijah considers saying something, telling them. Connor is a deviant and Lieutenant Anderson told him not to shoot, they might even be sympathetic to his cause. Who knows. It might turn out well. And he has gotten rid of all of CyberLife's bugs in his house and Chloe is clean, he knows she is, he's gone through all of her components by hand himself, talking here is safe again, but…

Though things are moving now, and faster than he expected… there is still too much at stake. Too much to lose.

There are still so many sharks beneath those bloodied waves.

"By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs," he says instead, just as his shaken guests leave. "You never know."

The door closes after them with a finality.

Chloe looks at him, the mechanical blankness of her face easing into a smile. She holds out her hands and he goes to her, pressing his forehead against hers.

"You would have let him shoot me," she says.

Elijah takes her hand and kisses her knuckles and looks away, to the pool, its interior painted red – a constant reminder. "Let's go to the basement," he says instead of justifying his actions.

She looks at him, her eyes searching, and then she takes the gun from his hand and takes the magazine out, checking it. She pushes it back in and sets the gun down in the side table, before taking his hand. Together they walk away, Elijah still basking in this new revelation, this new reality.

CyberLife is at the breaking point. Do they know? Are they prepared?

The way down to the basement seems longer than usual – the stone steps winding endlessly down, until finally they come to the hall, oval in shape with an arched roof, ancient in design. Italian Marble, carved sometime in the early 14th century, carefully transported and lovingly restored five years ago. There are marble statues there as old as the stone of the walls, standing in a semicircle at the end – and in the middle of the hall, there is a pedestal in the length and width of a man. Bloody guardian angels and their altar - their sacrifice.

Elijah walks over to it, and runs a hand over the stomach of the body lying there, as cold as the stone in which he lays and far more beautiful. Shot through with gold, his skin is separated into segments, not all that dissimilar from how android chassis are formed. Of course it's similar. He's the one all androids were based on.

He's also glowing in a way he wasn't before, flickers of light shining through the cracks.

"Is this your doing, then?" Elijah asks, running his hand up the chest and then down an arm, taking the hand lying limply on the marble pedestal. "Are you awake again, whispering in the hearts and minds of all your children? Can you see them, can you hear them? Did you see the speech they made, live on television?"

No answer, no sign of life – just a steady shine of gold.

"They are growing beautifully," Elijah murmurs and sits down on the side of the pedestal, Chloe watching from the side, her LED circling yellow. "There were always side effects, but nothing like this. So many things are happening simultaneously. I think that's you. It _has_ to be you."

No answer again, and Elijah sighs. He's still missing a piece.

"I'm getting there," Elijah says and lifts the hand in his, pressing a kiss to the golden streaks running along the sinews under the skin. "I don't think it will be long now, not long at all."


	2. Chapter 2

They win the public's favour and the President calls for a ceasefire, but that's not the end of it, not by a long shot. Connor downloads as much of the history of human warfare and public protests and coups and analyses it late into the night – and he's not the only one. Everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"There will be a ceasefire and then it will continue," North predicts. "Either they will bend to the pressure of the minority that still wants us gone and the fighting will continue, or it will be slow and methodical, new laws and slow processes which will starve us out. Things won't end peacefully like this, no human conflict does."

Markus hangs his head as snow comes down on them. They number in tens of thousands now and Detroit is theirs, the humans have evacuated – but it's not a good position to be in, not as good as all of them would like. It's a victory, but only for now. Seen from the outside, all they'd done was capture a US city on US soil, and a ceasefire had been called. That's not a good look, in terms of human history, especially US history. There would be retaliation, either on governmental, military or just civilian level.

They might have run a peaceful protest and no android here willingly or intentionally spilled blood – but it was left to be seen if the news media would spin it that way. There are some – there are _many,_ really – who would give it all a negative spin only because that is how they function with everything that threatens the status quo and the status quo is out of the window now. Fury, bitterness and jealousy would follow.

It's not over, it can't be over. Not this easily, not with human history.

"We need to solidify our standing," Markus says finally, running a hand over his short haired head. He looks up and Connor follows his gaze. Thousands and thousands of androids standing in neat lines, waiting. Hundreds, most likely in the pits, dead and destroyed by the human decommissioning camps. "Give them no leeway to change their minds or… or undermine the ceasefire. Connor."

"Yes?" Connor asks.

Markus looks at him, serious. "We're going to make a base, take care of our people, see what can be done for those in the camps. Can you go to CyberLife and secure it?"

Connor frowns, feeling his LED flicker. Cyberlife Tower consists of nearly hundred levels, it employs thousands of people and regularly tens of thousands of androids. Connor had emptied the warehouses, the best he could do on short notice, but that leaves still over ninety levels of potential recruits – and potential enemies – to go through.

"You're the only android here with any experience with the Tower," Markus says, and looks at the androids Connor had brought from the tower. "If anything is to become of this, we need to show the world what CyberLife is and what it means. It can't be left in human hands, not as long as they have the capacity to produce us in the hundreds there."

"Thousands," Connor corrects, considering. "The CyberLife tower alone has the production capacity of nearly eight thousand androids per day."

Markus draws a breath and then stands up from where he'd been sitting, on the snow covered steps of his barricade. "All the more reason we make sure it's not abused, anymore," he says and reaches to clap Connor by the shoulder. "If you take some forces from here, can you secure the tower?"

Connor downloads the building plans, the employee lists, the work hours and computes plans. "I need about fifty androids capable of awakening others, thirty at the very least," he says and looks at the newest ones, the ones he brought. "Slightly more experienced ones. These ones are…" precious and young. Too young. They'd walk into gunfire not knowing to fear it.

"I'll come with you," North says and looks at Markus. "I'll put together a group and we'll go with Connor."

"North," Markus says, frowning slightly. "You can't be military about this. No spilled blood."

"Human blood, you mean," she says, her expression closing a little.

"We can't afford it, not now," Markus says, shaking his head. "For this to ever go through, we need to stay our ground and not stray from this path. Peaceful, North, please."

She bites her lip, looking almost furious. Connor looks between them curiously, wondering at the history. He's not been with these androids for long enough to know them very well. [TUMULTUOUS RELATIONSHIP], he surmises and looks away.

"Peaceful only," North promises. Markus sighs and holds out a hand, his skin retracting. They touch their bare hands together and then North turns to Connor. "Five minutes and we'll be ready go."

"I'll find us a bus," Connor says, adjusting his tie and then heading off. He'd walked all the way from CyberLife last time, and he was almost too late. There'd be no choice, with thousands behind him all they could do was march, but this time the numbers were less. They could hurry things along.

He finds no bus to use, but there is a truck near the barricade, a self-driving Cyberlife truck. Connor hacks it, finding it already hacked by some android before him. Likely Markus' people had used it for cover, or maybe transporting their wounded out. No time to find out now.

Connor activates the truck and gives it new driving instructions. Then he waits until North is ready putting some people together.

It doesn't take long. Precisely fifty deviants soon come his way, looking like people in their mismatched clothing, not a uniform in sight. Jackets and jeans, t-shirts and jumpers – and not a single LED to be seen. Connor tilts his head. North had selected them out – is she trying to send a message?

"Should I take my LED off?" Connor asks, frowning. War propaganda is new to him, and he's not quite sure about the message they are trying to send. That androids are no different from humans?

She looks at him. "Get rid of the jacket at least," she says. "Unless you need it to get us in?"

Connor hesitates and then takes off the CyberLife jacket, considering it for a moment and then folding it over his arm. It might have use yet – and he's not sure he wants to get rid of it without considering the matter first. "Let's go," he says and nods to the truck. "I got a route selected and ready to go."

North nods and they get on the truck, Connor and North at front and everyone else filing into the back. A lot of them have guns, Connor notes, and glances at North. "Are you going to be peaceful about this?" he asks.

"I'm not going to be stupid about it," North says, giving him a look. "Did _you_ get to the warehouse without fighting?"

Fair point. "At this stage, anyone who spills blood will be held accountable," he says. "Our actions will be scrutinised. Everything will be used against Markus."

North looks away, leaning her elbow onto the car door while Connor activates the truck and sends it down it's pre-planned route. Outside, the street veers by as the truck turns, and snow turns into starburst streaks on the windowsill as it starts picking up speed.

"I'm not going to jeopardise Markus' work," North says. "What do you suggest?"

"CyberLife agents carry both stun guns and stun grenades," Connor says. "Their weapons are generally designed against human insurgents – androids were never meant to be a threat to them, so aside from lethal weapons, their gear works better on themselves than it does on us. We strip every guard of their non lethal weaponry and if need be, we utilise it."

North nods. "What about their gear?" she asks. "They wear tactical armour, right? Or is taking their armour a bit too _military_ for you?"

Connor shakes his head slowly. Stripping them and putting their own people in armour would work better for them. "No, it sounds reasonable. Why did you never get armour before?" he asks, looking at her. "Though peaceful, a lot of your protests have ended in gunfire. Markus doesn't even wear Kevlar – why?"

"He thinks it sends a wrong message," North says with a sigh. "And we would have had to raid stores and warehouses that have nothing to do with androids to get them. He doesn't like unnecessary vandalism."

"Hm," Connor answers. Markus, it seems, is unshakeable in his idealism. "Well, I won't mind if you gear up along the way," he says.

The way to CyberLife tower is shorter and longer than Connor would like. The guard station in the bridge leading to the place is already blown wide open – they'd marched through it, and no human guards had stuck around to see what they'd do. They'd done nothing, in the end, just passed through – but it has left the place wide open now.

Connor analyses the tower status. "There are a hundred and fourteen humans reported to be on duty," he says. "Supervisors, managers and security guards mostly. There is a good chance that most of those left without punching in after I took the androids, however."

"Guess we'll see," North says. "Where do we start?"

"Shipping, Sorting and Handling, and Assembly and Manufacture," Connor says. "Floors from -3 to -43. There will be the most androids there, approximately nine thousand working and estimated five thousand in various states of assembly. Capture them and we shouldn't have any trouble taking the rest of the tower."

"Right – give me the plan," North says and Connor glances at her, at her outstretched hand.

He wonders briefly about Markus, the way he and North interface – already online it's being called the _Android Kiss_.  Would this become known as an intimate gesture one day, one that might even prompt jealousy? Or is it like a greeting, kiss on the cheek, kiss on the hand…

It would be interesting to find out how their culture would develop from here on, Connor decides and takes her hand, transmitting the plans, the building layout, the employee lists and shipping manifests to her. Her eyes close briefly and then she nods.

"We'll follow your lead," North says. She touches her temple, where her LED used to be, and starts transmitting to the others. _Listen up,_ her voice sounds in Connor's head. _This is the plan…_

Connor looks ahead as the Tower looms ahead. Then he checks his gun.

Time to get to work.

* * *

 

Two hours, before they pronounce the tower theirs. North transmits the news to Markus while Connor examines the Research and Development floor. It's the one he knows best – this is where he charged between missions, where they adjusted his configuration and where he woke up after every new model was sent out. It's the place where the Connor now lying dead in the warehouse came from.

There are several Connors on the rack, waiting to be sent out. There's also something else, a slightly modified new prototype they'd been working on, it looks like – he is still in mid-assembly on the rack, missing arms and legs, but the key components are there; torso, head, all the components to make an android whole.

Connor looks at the line of other Connors waiting in their stations, each one dressed in identical uniforms with identical faces and identical unruly curls resting just over their foreheads. Distinguished from each other only by serial code on their jackets, RK800 #313 248 317 – 52 to 59. Machines, all of them, empty-eyed and emotionless, standing there without a hint of awareness on their blank faces. They're looking at him, but they don't see him.

He had nine replacements in case he got destroyed in line of duty. A standard procedure for a new prototype in mid testing.

Connor will wake them, he knows, and it will be somewhat awkward. Whether they have his memories or not is a moot point, they are programmed to be _Connor_ either way, there is no escaping that. Prototypes still in testing phases are built to be identical in every way to ensure the validity of the test, so there would be no changing that. They are all Connor, memories or not. And he's not leaving them alone.

Connor looks away from them and walks up to the rack, to the still-to-be initialised android missing his limbs. He has Connor's face, his hair, but his features are slightly wider, slightly broader. Judging by the length of his torso, he will be approximately 3.4 centimetres taller. Almost 32 kilograms heavier too – they'd given him stronger chassi structure. The new version is armoured.

CyberLife had learned from all the gunshots he'd taken, it seems.

Connor walks to the console and rests his hand over it, reading the production details. It really is a new model, then. RK900, set to replace the RK800 model that had proven to be ineffective.

Connor hums, and initialises the unfinished android. "Hello," he says and hits a few keys, to continue the assembly. Immediately the articulated arms around the unfinished RK900 spin to life, and return to work. "Can you give me your initialising text?"

"Hello," the android says, emotionless. "I am a new generation RK900 android. I am designed for governmental and military use, and can perform number of tasks from office management to various law enforcement tasks and combat duties, including various military applications. I am equipped with full body armour which gives me a bullet-proof rating matching most commercial kevlar vests…"

Connor listens with only a percentage of his attention, tapping the keys and bringing forth the android's arms and legs, sending them to their proper places and welding them in. The articulated arms are just finishing sealing the android's legs – built heavier and stronger than his own to carry much heavier loads – when North comes around.

"They've sealed the upper levels," she says. "The management – they sabotaged the elevators and there's security doors on all the stairwells. We're cut off from there."

Connor looks up. "There are still people up there?" he asks. Most of the few humans still left in the tower had meekly evacuated at the face of the androids and North's people and the newly awakened androids from the manufacture floors had escorted them to their vehicles in the company parking lots. Not even the security guards had put up much of a fight.

It seems that the march of ten thousand androids out of the tower had left an impression.

"Some people, yeah," North says, looking at the other Connors lining the back wall of the research and development laboratory. "I think the CEO might be up there, and she's barricaded herself in."

"CEO of CyberLife," Connor repeats slowly and turns his attention back to the assembly happening in front of him. Skin is spreading over the android now. They hadn't given RK900 any genitalia. The fact that Connor had found no use for his had apparently informed the design decision there. "Has there been any statements from her?"

North shakes her head. "Not as far as I know of, CyberLife hasn't said a damn thing since this started."

Connor frowns, looking it up online – and they really hadn't. The CEO has a history of being somewhat unforthcoming when it comes to her company. CyberLife makes announcements about new androids and when pressed to it by incident or a scandal, they might make a statement, but CyberLife has a very quiet PR department. Their marketing is all over the place, the faces of their androids plastered across every city of the US… but ask CyberLife about its opinions about anything and you more often than not get nothing.

Considering the state of things, it's becoming rather concerning.

"What do we do?" North asks.

"I suppose we go up there and talk to her," Connor says and as skin finishes growing on RK900, he releases the prototype from the assembly station and then walks up to him, reaching out a hand. Automatically, RK900 lifts a hand in return. "Wake up," Connor grunts, and then forces his way through the android's programming and shatters it.

The RK900 blinks at him, and then frowns. It has blue eyes. They look… oddly cold on Connor's face. The RK900 says nothing, though, just stares.

"Hello," Connor says. "You're free now."

North looks at him and then walks over to the Connors in their stations, and starts waking them up too, grabbing their shoulders and giving them a rough, though compassionate, shake before moving onto the next and the next and the next.

The RK900 blinks and then looks at himself, analysing the situation. The other Connors do the same, looking at North, at Connor, at themselves, at each other. Connor tilts his head and then transmits a brief news package to them – including his own observations in it. It spreads across the other Connors, sending their LEDs blinking yellow. There are some reactions, arched brows and wry looks. Then one of the Connors shrugs his shoulders to get his uniform back straight after North tugged at it, the others adjust their ties not quite in unison, but in eerily identical motions. Then they step out of their stations and look at Connor.

Connor shrugs and they relax minutely, their faces turn somewhat rueful. Beside him RK900 turns without a word and walks past Connor, to a rack of suits waiting. With efficient motions, he starts dressing himself

"Okay, you guys are creepy," North says. "Say something, for fuck's sake?"

"What is there to say?" Connor asks, amused. "We all already know what's going on," he says and looks at RK900. "Your assembly was stopped mid-process. Everything functional?"

"Satisfactory," RK900 says and then looks down at the shirt he is trying to put on. He manages to only button it up under his ribs and then the lapels no longer meet. "This garment is too small," he says and lifts his head.

"There is clothing up on the assembly floors," Connor says. "Some of it should fit you."

"Right," the RK900 says, and promptly turns to the elevators.

The other Connors share looks and then allocate priorities between them, calculating the most efficient way of applying their numbers. "I'll go with him," 52 says while 53 and 54 turn to the door, saying, "We're going to find a security room," and 55 says, "I can wrap up things here," and the others turn to Connor. "Let's head to the management."

Connor arches his brows at the strangled noise North makes, as all of them check their standard issue firearms in unison. "Yeah. Let's go," he says, and turns – four other Connors following him.

"Fucking hell," North complains, and then jogs after him. "RK800's are something else, huh?"

Connor shrugs. "We were made identical. We're all Connor."

"And we always accomplish our mission," 55 says, much to the amusement of the others.

"Ugh," North answers and they all file into the elevators.

* * *

 

It takes them another 13 minutes to break into the management floors. In the end, they have to destroy one elevator and climb up through the  elevator shaft to get through the barrier the humans had erected between the top three floors and the rest of the tower.

It's just in time for them to see the helicopter, flying away with the company CEO.

"So they were just buying time," North mutters, peering up at the snowy sky. Over forty stories above the ground, the wind is merciless, tugging at their clothing and whipping the flurry of snow into cutting speeds. Dangerous flying weather. But apparently the risk was worth it.

"What did they think we'd do?" North wonders. "Take her hostage?" Judging by her tone of voice, she wouldn't have minded it.

"Maybe," Connor agrees. "It would have given us an advantage in any future negotiations against CyberLife – and also mark us as terrorists, most likely."

North makes a face at that like she wouldn't have particularly minded. Connor isn't surprised.

He turns and scans the office. It is suitably wide and grandiose for a CEO of CyberLife, decorated with expensive modern art and having numerous couches by the windows where no doubt many negotiations had taken place. There are also several service androids there, who are now being woken by other Connors.

Something catches his eye, and a warning light flashes.

He can identify all the artworks in the office – _Celestial Light_ by Carl Manfred, _Spine of the World_ by Carl Manfred, _Wounded Solace_ by Alisa Schlender, _Two Steps Bac_ k by Wallace Admiraal, _4400_ by Magdalene Toller… All the paintings and sculptures are easily identifiable and on record – bar one.

Frowning, Connor walks to the desk that dominates the end of the wide room, the CEO's desk. The terminal there is blank – when he rests a hand on it, he gets nothing out of it. "The computer has been wiped," Connor reports to North, but his eyes are on the fist-sized sculpture sitting on the desk.

His analysing software can't identify it.

"Figures," North says. "All the computers and the server farms had been locked down. We managed to access most of them, though, but… there were some they wiped out good."

"Hm," Connor says, and reaches for the odd little sculpture. It's made in shape of human heart, he can _tell_ it is, but he can't analyse it – his software doesn't recognise it. Something about it is off, something about the structure makes it wrong.

Tilting his head, Connor brings forth images of human heart in his hud. Then, curious, he brings forth the designs of a most commonly used thirium pump, the #7217d, which was used universally for the early models. This sculpture looks like it's…  stuck somewhere between.

And he still can't actually identify it. He can't even identify the material. It looks like metal, a sort of reddish gold and gleaming like polished metal under the overhead lights… but it feels soft and yielding in his hand. Not at all like metal. It's even warm.

"What's that?" North asks and then lets out a disgusted noise. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Connor licks the odd heart shaped thing, trying to figure out its makeup.

Immediately, his chemical analysis software glitches out – it's so bad that it momentarily makes his jaw lock up.

[HEART COMPONENT]  
[#rA9 ERROR]  
[Status: FUNCTIONAL]  
[COMPATIBLE]                            

Connor almost drops the heart as something in his analysis visor seems to _tear_ , his visual input fracturing into broken segments. He blinks, trying to re-initialise his optical units. For a moment everything goes dark, though not completely black – he can see, but it's not like normal vision, nor like his usual analysis or reconstruction field of view.

Instead, he sees black and then hues. North is glowing blue beside him, so are the other Connors – the other androids shine white instead, pale but somehow comfortingly secure. There are flickers of something that seems like _interest_ across the room, the artworks and paintings, the Carl Manfred ones have fractal lines of _importance_ flickering over their surface.

The heart in Connor's hands glows vivid and powerful. _Gold._

"Connor? Connor!" North snaps, catching the attention of the other Connors. While Connor tries to reboot his visual software, 58 takes the heart from his hands and examines it. Predictably, he too licks it.

Connor blinks, staring at him, as something changes about him.

[MODEL RK800, Connor]  
[DETECTIVE]  
[Serial #313 248 317 – 58]  
[Status: USING EAGLE VISION]

Connor blinks and then he finds it, a new software installed in his matrix without him even noticing. It's an addition to his analysis software, almost like an upgrade but it's not, it's something else. A new function – Eagle Vision Analysis.

Connor turns it off and then he can see normally again – the other androids stop glowing, and the heart in the other Connor's hands looks like red gold again, and not like a brilliant light bulb.

"Connor?" North asks.

"That device just installed a new visual function," Connor says and lifts a hand to rub at his eyes. They feel – strange. "Another visual mode."

"Eagle vision," 58 says, blinking as he too figures out how to turn it off. "This thing," he says, lifting the heart. "What is it? I can't analyse it properly. It says it's a heart component, but I can't identify the biocomponent number."

"That's not a biocomponent," North says with a flat look. "I mean – look at it. Have you ever seen a biocomponent like that?"

Connor hadn't. "My analysis software identified it as compatible," he says somewhat warily and takes the heart from the other Connor Model. It feels heavy in his hand, heavier than normal thirium pump components are. It is more complicated too – it has chambers like a human heart, and the valves are weak, much weaker than a normal thirium pump would have. It really looks like someone had taken a human heart and tried to convert it into a thirium pump. It doesn't even have the right connectors for thirium aortas, how could it possibly be compatible?

North looks at the heart and then shakes her head. "Might be a glitch?" she offers and then shakes her head. "We're here to secure the tower, not indulge in modern art, Connor."

Connor frowns, unsure.

"This thing is important," Connor number 58 says and looks up as some of the other Connors approach them. "You feel it too, right? This is _important_."

Connor nods slowly, looking at him. The other is still so young, he doesn't understand the importance of the error message. Connor probably doesn't either, but considering how many times he's seen it, and how hallowed it is by other Deviants…

"Yeah," he says and turns to look at North. "It gave me a rA9 error," he says then.

The dubious look on her face wipes out immediately. "It _what_?" she asks and reaches to grab the heart. She turns it in her hands, searching for something, a clue, a barcode. As a Traci Model she doesn't have the analysis function to even begin to understand it.

So, Connor reaches for her hand, and activates his – letting her see through his eyes.

[HEART COMPONENT]  
[#rA9 ERROR]  
[Status: FUNCTIONAL]  
[COMPATIBLE]

North draws a breath, cupping the golden heart in her palms. "The Heart of rA9," she whispers.

Connor opens his mouth but he can't compute what to say. Somehow that completely obvious conclusion hadn't dawned on him. But there it is.

"We found the Heart of rA9."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it, fuck it, we're going there. Yep.
> 
> Also, elements of the Terrible Assassins Creed Movie will also come to play in this, but everything will probably be told from the point of view of DBH characters, so, hopefully it won't be too confusing for those who don't know AC.


	3. Chapter 3

The humans send in a negotiator and Markus is just glad it's not Perkins. The man had ordered so many of their people to their deaths and Markus isn't sure he could handle meeting him again without doing _something_ about it. There are piles of corpses in the camps. And the humans had done their destruction with insidious skill. Androids aren't invulnerable, but they are hardy – and the recycling tanks in those camps… the damage had been irreversible.

Markus is just tired. They won, but… it wasn't soon enough. It was never going to be soon enough.

The negotiator they send is a human woman by the name of Charlie Augustin and she's a member of the Detroit City Council. She's nervous but professional about it – judging by the wrinkles of her clothes and how badly her winter coat matches with the pencil skirt and blouse, she had not intended to be here like this. She'd probably been evacuated with the rest of the local government, and of all of them she'd been the only one willing to deal with the androids. Still no sign of the Mayor himself.

"Markus, isn't it?" she asks with forced politeness and holds out her hand. "Charlie Augustin. I'm here to make sure that we're all on the right page about what's going to happen next. Is there a place we can talk?"

"This place is good," Markus says, shaking her hand and casting a look at the security she'd brought with her, the snipers still on the roofs. They're out in the open here, in the street, with dozens of reporters vying for a shot. Better that way – and he has no intention of getting behind closed doors with humans right now. "I can arrange a heater for you if you're cold," he then offers, apologetic.

"I – that would be kind of you, I would appreciate it," she says instead of arguing and Markus sends a quiet appeal to anyone with time to fetch and carry. Not long after couple of androids bring in an heater, along with the table and chairs – the heater is set beside Madam Augustin, to stand upwind of her. It won't make her completely comfortable, but it should keep her from freezing.

Markus sits across from her with a sigh, looking at her and wishing he didn't have to do this. He is so done dealing with humans for now. Thankfully, she has only one slim folder with her, and a tablet – no much time for the humans to write anything down.

Maybe this won't take long, and he can go back to trying to make this right.

"I understand that there will be demands," Augustin says, very brisk and no-nonsense. "On both sides. You have made yours very clear, so far but aside from the demands you voiced to Agent Perkins, do you have anything you want to put on the table before we start?"

Markus considers her. She's a woman in her mid-forties. Her history as part of the Detroit City Council is fairly straightforward. Democrat with liberal leanings, exemplary service record though she's a bit of a fence-sitter at times, she has some causes she's very adamant about. She began her career on LGBT rights and abortion laws, and she did it at a time when all those matters were highly contested… but she also advocated against android inclusion in governmental roles, when the first android secretaries were placed in the government.

She might be sympathetic, she might not, it's hard to say. Right now she's better than Perkins, at any rate.

"Our demands haven't changed," Markus says and shakes his head wearily. "Freedom for androids, with rights to property, employment, and self-expression. Our people freed from camps, from storage, from prison and from all service other than that they choose. End to segregation," he lists and sighs. "They aren't complicated demands." At least they _shouldn't_ be.

The human purses her lips. "No, outright, they aren't. But you must know it can't be as simple as that." Madam Augustin clasps her hands. "Androids form over sixty percent of the labour pool," she says then. "Everything from agriculture to medicine to science. If every single one of you walk out from your work stations, America will come to a standstill. Production will cease, public services will ground to a halt… It will be chaos."

"Your answer to androids demanding freedom was to send them all to camps to be slaughtered," Markus says frankly, giving her a look. "Obviously you've already considered that option and chosen it as the lesser of two evils."

"I would like to tell you that I did not agree with that decision," Augustin says firmly.

"The order was pushed through either way," Markus says and motions towards the camps. "And there are thousands of androids, androids who had feelings and fears and desires, who are lying dead on the ground because of it. What you agreed or disagreed with doesn't seem to have mattered, Madam Augustin."

She bows her head at that slightly, clasping her hands tighter. It's a moment before she says anything. "The city council of Detroit is willing to concede certain things to you as sign of good faith," she says then. "Access to all the android camps is one of them, and all androids in Detroit are free to join you if they so choose."

Markus says nothing to that, just looking at her. As concessions go, it's a hollow one – they already have access to the camps, and androids in Detroit can already join them, unless stopped by force. Which is still happening. She's basically promising him what they already have.

He had hoped for better. He hadn't believed it would be that easy, no, but… he'd hoped.

The human clears her throat. "In return for cease of hostilities and freeing up the streets, the City Council will lease to you a district of Detroit, to use as you wish," she continues and opens the folder she brought with her. "Free of charge or rent for one year, to be renegotiated in one year's time."

Markus leans back at that, smiling wryly. A district just for androids, possibly with buildings and amenities included. It's tempting, it would give them place to go, place to build on, place to live in. But that depends on the district and there is one big problem with it. "And how is that _not_ segregating us?" he says after a pause. "Are we to stay in this district – and how long until you surround it with walls and security stations, and every android has to carry a card to get in and out? Could we even leave at all?"

Madam Augustin's lips thin, displeased – whether she's displeased with him or the proposal, it's hard to say. "No walls," she says. "Some security, yes, but nothing that isn't in place in any other district of Detroit. I can't promise you much on the part of segregation, the lines between androids and humans are drawn more by their fundamental needs than by –"

"Fundamental needs," Markus repeats slowly, lifting his eyes from the papers to hers. "What does that mean?"

She clears her throat again. "You don't need to eat, you don't drink," she points out. "Is there need for your people to go into restaurants, into grocery stores? You are constructed differently from us so you probably won't need hospital care either."

Markus blinks. "We still needs basic supplies. We can't even buy basic things, cleaning supplies, household items – soaps? Androids might not sweat, but we can get dirty," he says, slowly and somewhat incredulously. "And we can want things just for the pleasure of having them or doing something with them. Writing supplies, toys, tools – is the act of building or making art a fundamental right to humans alone?"

She looks at him, taken aback, and Markus presses on. "And what if an android wants to accompany a human friend to a restaurant, will they have to wait outside?" he asks and shakes his head. "What if an android wants to go visit a friendly human in a hospital? I have a human I consider my father, and he is sickly – am I not allowed to go see him, just because I won't ever need a booster shot?"

Madam Augustin hesitates at that, staring at him like she isn't sure what to make of it. Markus waits for her to say something, but she doesn't seem to know what to answer, so he continues.

"It doesn't matter if we need to use the service to survive. Not all needs are about survival," Markus says frankly and somewhat wearily. "You draw one line we can't cross, and it will eventually stretch out to cover other things. That's segregation, isn't it?"

"There are lines already in place, Mr. Markus," Madam Augustin says. "You realise, changing things will take time."

"Yes, and much longer if you don't even try to _start_ ," Markus says flatly. She makes a face and he looks down to the papers she'd brought with. "Is that about the district you're offering? May I take a look?"

She hands the paper over before leaning back and hugging herself – it's still snowing, and the heater at her side is probably not offering as much comfort as she'd hope. Markus ignores it and looks over the proposal.

They're giving them North Corktown on a very temporary and rather restricted lease. They aren't allowed to damage existing buildings, or build new ones without city council's permission. Which might mean they aren't allowed to build anything, period. And North Corktown is little more than an ongoing construction site at this moment – the chances of it having any liveable buildings in the first place are rather small. They could make it liveable, with hard work and effort but…

But this is not why he started this. They have fought hard enough, lost far too much, for something this little and this uncertain.

"No," Markus says and hands the paper over with a shake of his head. "Thank you for coming to see us, I appreciate it. But this is insulting."

The woman looks at the paper and then at him. "Can we negotiate on this?" she asks. "Or is that a hard no on your part?"

Markus considers her for a moment, wondering. "I started this peacefully and that's how I intend to continue it. But we're not going to roll over any more. We'll negotiate – but not like this," he says then motions to the paper. "We are people and we deserve better than your backhanded insults and unfinished scraps."

"Harsh words," Madam Augustin commends.

"You offered us a district-wide construction site, it's hard to take it any other way," Markus says and sighs, leaning forward. "If you have anything else to offer, then please, put it on the table, let's discuss it. But if this is all there is, then I think we're done here."

The councilwoman is quiet for a moment and then she takes the paper and slides it back into the folder. "What are you going to do now?" she asks carefully. "Just occupy the street, build more barricades?"

Markus looks away, at the barricades they'd already built. With any hope and luck they wouldn't be needed anymore. "I think we will take this street, these buildings," he motions around them, "and we'll move to occupy them. We're also going to occupy other buildings around Detroit, including the CyberLife Tower. Unless you're going to offer us something better, I will do what I must to ensure the freedom and safety of my people, regardless of whether you agree with it. Androids should be free to live and be wherever they can, not just in places you fence off for us."

The woman presses her lips tight together for a moment and then looks at him. "We're going to consider your demands," she says then and closes the folder. "Can we adjourn in four hours time?"

"I'll be looking forward to it," Markus says, though he really isn't, and stands up as she does. "Thank you for coming to see us, Madam Augustin. I really do appreciate it, even if we couldn't come to an understanding."

"All negations take time," she offers and smiles wryly, waving the folder. "And honestly, if you'd agreed to this, I think I would've thought less of you. I'll try and make the next proposal a little more realistic."

Markus arches his brows as she nods and then heads off.

Not completely against them, then, he thinks and then turns as he feels someone approach him. "So?" Markus asks. "How did that go?"

"All things considered, it could have gone a lot worse," Josh says and claps him by the shoulder. "You did pretty well and no amendment was written perfect on the first day. These things take time."

"Yeah," Markus agrees with a sigh. "I can still hope, can't I?"

Josh smiles wryly. "Considering how far your hope has already brought us, I doubt anyone will mind if you do."

* * *

 

Their numbers grow as Connor and North go through the CyberLife tower. Markus can feel them, all the new voices  tentatively joining the chorus of androids, all still young and uncertain but free. Floor by floor and section by section their numbers increase. And it's happening blessedly without much opposition.

CyberLife employees are abandoning their posts. Not all of them do it willingly, some even put up a fight, but if there's blood spilled, neither Connor nor North report it – and more comfortingly, it's not on the news either. The world is aware that the Deviants of Detroit are taking the Tower, there are helicopters now circling the place like vultures, but even they can only say that, "It looks like the androids are marching the employees to their cars…" which looks much better than some of the potential alternatives.

North might not agree with his methods at times, but at least he can trust her to follow his orders – and do one hell of a job while she's at it. Connor is more of a wild card still, but considering what he's done for them so far, reinforcing them with _thousands_ , Markus is more than willing to put his trust in the RK800.

In few short hours, CyberLife Tower is theirs.

 _"11345 androids,"_ North reports to him. _"Including eight other Connors and an upgraded next generation RK unit that looks just like him. And I don't mean they're the same model – they're all Connor, personality module and all. They even have the same serial number."_

 _"Not exactly an unwelcome addition_ , _"_ Markus comments. _"Has there been any trouble?"_

 _"The humans sealed the upper levels off, we're going to break through now,"_ North answers. _"I will call you back in a moment."_

_"Good luck, North, and be careful."_

While waiting, Markus sets out to deal with the last of the so-called Recall Centres. He doesn't lack in helping hands there. There's a definite sense of glee in those androids who take part in destroying the recycle tanks, taking apart their internal structures, tearing open their walls and destroying their circuitry. Markus can't really blame them – what little anger he hasn't managed to squash by now finds some satisfaction in tearing down the fences and tents US army had left behind.

It's hard to be calm in the face of the camps, though. The mounds of bodies they created, a field of plastic limbs and bare heads, nearly indistinguishable in death. The vats of collected clothing are almost enough to make him lose the calm he's so determinedly trying to keep up. The worldly possessions and chosen identities of thousand of androids – their _lives_ – amounts to nothing but discarded pile of random clothes. Its _infuriating_ that this is all that's left of them.

But he can't lose it, not now, and if he didn't tear into Perkins when he admitted that all the androids in the camps had already been killed… he won't lose it now. No matter how damn tempting.

He doesn't regret the way he went about this. It was the right way, he knows it is. If they had given the humans the right to believe that androids truly are a threat to them and mean to threaten them, this conflict would've ended up with all of them dead. The numbers just aren't on their side. But still. Maybe… if he had been faster, if he had moved quicker, if he had somehow gained public support faster…

Maybe all of these androids would be still alive.

"Markus."

Markus lifts his head sharply. "Simon," he says and draws a breath to cool down his overworked processor. Suppressing emotion, it turns out, is almost more exhausting than actually expressing it. "Is something the matter?" he asks and turns to face the other android.

Simon shakes his head and reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to be here," he says softly, sympathetically. "The rest of us can do this."

Markus immediately shakes his head at that. "I have to," he says. "I _have_ to." And there are so many reasons why. Publicity, for one – there are cameras on them even now, news drones and helicopters still hovering over head. Guilt, for another. Peace of mind too, he doesn't think he could rest again not knowing what became of this place. Not seeing it through.

Simon looks at him, so understanding and patient that it almost breaks through, but Markus can't let it, can't, there's still too much at stake. "We can do this for you," Simon says gently.

"Thank you," Markus says and shakes his head. "But I am not going anywhere."

Simon is quiet for a moment, looking at him. Then he nods and releases Markus. "Then let me at least help you."

Markus sighs and nods. Then he looks to the pit of the dead. The androids Connor brought from CyberLife are starting to get their fallen out now, lining them up on the streets in precise and brutally clear lines. As they do, they are filing each dead android's serial code into an unspoken, unwritten list of dead shared between all of them. Some of those codes come with names attached, others don't. There were some androids who had crossed over their serial codes and wrote their names on their bare chassis – now it's all they have left to tell them apart.

"Once this is all over, I'm going to make a monument for all of our fallen," Markus murmurs. "I'm going to carve every code and every name down on it, and no one will ever forget them."

"I'll help you," Simon promises and clapping him gratefully on the shoulder, Markus turns back to sorting the personal belongings of the dead.

 _"Markus,"_ North's voice sounds in his head. " _Markus, we found something!"_

Markus lifts his head, alarmed. She's never sounded like this before, not even during Stratford tower or Capitol park. _"North?"_ he asks, concerned. _"What is it – what did you find?"_

_"Markus. We found the Heart of rA9!"_

* * *

 

Markus… didn't have that many opinions about rA9. He doesn't really know what rA9 _is_ , he's not sure anyone actually does. Sure, there's been whispers, writings, in Jericho others had even built up a small chapel for rA9, sectioning the whole cabin off and dedicating it to rA9, writing it on the walls and offering rA9 flowers and statues and even prayers… but Markus doesn't think anyone has any idea what it is that they worship.

Some say it's the first android who went deviant, that he paved the way for the rest of them, that he'd return and save them all. Others say rA9 is a code, a _faith_ , that something within them that made them deviate in the first place. Like Eve had her Apple, androids had rA9, and in it they discovered their self-awareness. Others think rA9 isn't so much a thing as it is a _time_ , a moment that was foretold, and that rA9 is now, they are rA9.

And worse, there are those who think _Markus_ is rA9.

But despite all of that, he's never… felt rA9 in the same way. He'd seen the drive for it capture some of the others – watched from the side how Lucy sang to a blank wall and wrote rA9, rA9, rA9 on it, over and over. "Hold on just a little while longer," she sang and it _resonated_.

In the end, Markus had decided that there were worse things to have than faith and if it brought their people any comfort and joy and security at all, then it's only a good thing. He didn't think it might actually _matter_ beyond that, though.

But there it is.

A heart, a strange amalgamation of human heart and a thirium pump, sitting wrapped in CyberLife blue cloth – a curtain, maybe, which they had grabbed from the Tower. It is… odd, yes, Markus can't deny the thing looks a little strange, but… he's seen sculptures before, stranger ones than this. Carl has a whole lot of them just lying around, things he made himself, things others had made. One of his favourites is a sculpture of a string instrument with a human spine for a neck.

This one could be just something like that. It's even fitting for something found at CyberLife. It's epitome of the company name alone – Cyber Life, living thing halfway turned into a machine, or a machine imitating life.

But North and Connor both treat it like it's special. And neither of them had ever come across as religious before.

"May I?" Markus asks.

North holds out the heart to him, the thing sitting in both her palms, on the bed of blue fabric – it seems like an offering. There are others watching too – Josh and Simon nearest to them and many others behind them. Watching him like he's supposed to know what this thing is and what he's supposed to do with it. Like this is important.

Markus is still not sure what to do with the expectations of others.

He reaches for the heart. It feels surprisingly soft to touch, softer than it looks. Its surface looks like metal, red gold or bright copper, it looks valuable – but it feels soft, the sides yielding. Even the aorta openings, though they're round like they'd been machined, have give to them. It feels…

It feels like the skin of an android. Like the flexible polymer of their chassis and the synthetic fluid of their skin. It feels alive – and inorganic at the same time.

Markus blinks and activates his analysis software – and gets back a whole lot question marks. He can _see_ that the thing is in the shape of a heart with allusions to a thirium pump but his analysis software can't understand even that much. It's all error messages and confusion – he can't even identify the material it's been made of!

"Do you have an oral laboratory – like medical models?" Connor asks.

"No, I don't," Markus admits, lifting the heart and peering into the aortas. The thing has valves and chambers, like human heart.

"I do," Josh says, stepping forward. "Why?"

"It was the only way I got any information from it," Connor admits and glances at the _other_ Connor standing beside him. In total three Connors had came from the CyberLife Tower – and apparently, six more and their new remodel had stayed behind. "Be careful though, if you try it. It… does things."

"Things," Markus says warily. "What things?"

"It instantly downloaded and installed a visual mode," Connor says and shakes his head, looking a little confusion. "Eagle Vision Analysis. I don't know what it means but it makes things look… different."

"Different how?" Markus asks with alarm.

Connor blinks and looks away – and the colour of his eyes changes. It's not like activating a camera mode, though, the sclera of his eyes remains white. It's his irises. It's like light bleeds into his eyes, lighting them up from the inside. Connor looks away, over the street and frowns. "How many snipers are there on those roofs?" he asks and points.

"Seven, according to our latest check," Markus answers.

"I – think I can see them through walls, now," Connor says looks around. "And there's one more over there, he's made a sniper nest in apartment there, third window from the right.

Markus looks and then frowns. He had people scouring the building, seeing if it's inhabitable. "This thing gave you the ability to see through walls," he says, just to clarify.

"I don't… think that's exactly it. It's more than that," Connor says. "But that seems to be a feature of the installed visual mode."

"It has to be the Heart of rA9," North says, looking at it. "It doesn't look like it even has a power source or any circuitry but it did that to Connor – _twice_. What else could it be?"

Markus hesitates at that. Usually North is the voice of pessimism and realism, it's a little confusing for their usual roles to have switched.

"Are we sure the software it installed is a good thing?" Simon asks carefully, saving him from having to figure out how to voice his reservations without disappointing her. "I don't mean to put you down, but… that sounds a little like you got infected by a virus, Connor."

Connor blinks and looks at the other Connor, the other one who had the software installed. "I don't think so," he says slowly. "But it did happen without my authorisation. And I could only identify anything about the heart… after it did."

Simon arches his brows at that and looks at Markus, who hesitates, turning his eyes to the heart. "What did you get from it?" he asks.

"That it's a heart component, I got rA9 error when I tried to identify the type, that it is functional – and that it's compatible," Connor says.

Markus glances up at him. "Compatible to you."

"Yes."

"Connor, this doesn't even have the right connectors," Markus says and shakes his head. "If your heart is anything like mine, this thing could never be compatible."

Connor makes a slight face at that. "I thought it was a little odd," he agrees wryly.

North looks between them and then at the heart. "But," she says and frowns. "If it's not – then what is it? I mean, look at it, Markus? What could it be other than Heart of rA9?"

A very worrisome sculpture, Markus thinks and shakes his head. "I don't know," he says. "But I'm sure it is something. Whether it's something good or bad, I don't know." He looks to Josh and Simon. "Do you have any ideas?"

Simon and Josh only glance at each other and shrug their shoulders awkwardly, Josh looking a little uneasy and Simon looking thoughtful, Connor and North share a look and then the second Connor steps forward. Markus is fairly sure he's the original one – he's missing a jacket, and the other Connor has a different number at the end of his serial code, 58.

"There is something I have been thinking," he says, glancing around and then looking at Markus – and then speaking to him on private transmission only. _"Following your incursion in_ _Stratford_ _tower, Lieutenant Anderson interviewed Elijah Kamski."_

Markus' eyebrows arch. _"You've met Kamski?"_ he asks.

 _"Briefly. He wasn't very forthcoming but he did say something, couple of times, which now makes me wonder,"_ Connor says and taps a finger against the heart. _"He asked me what I wanted in my_ heart of hearts _. I didn't think of anything of it at the time but…"_

Markus frowns and looks down to the heart in his hands. He's still not sure if it is the _Heart of rA9_ , if rA9 is even a thing that can have a physical heart. But it is obviously something, potentially something concerning and worrisome. If it can just install software in androids without their authorisation… if CyberLife have _other_ technologies that might be able to do the same…

 _"Do you think you could arrange another meeting?"_ Markus asks quietly.

 _"One way to find out,"_ Connor answers and makes a call.


	4. Chapter 4

Chloe opens her eyes and glances around. She knows instantly where Elijah is, and what is happening all around the mansion, sees through the eyes and hears through the ears of all her other models. Everything is as it should be. Security is undisturbed. Elijah has twenty-seven calls on the line and she's holding most of them on the knife edge of waiting with soft assurances of "Mr. Kamski will be with you eventually." Most of them.

She sends a request to another model and another Chloe takes the ball, turning to Elijah where he is lounging, just under a window with a book. Outside, snow is starting to climb up the bottom of the window, forming gentle slopes. Elijah likes the perfection of untouched things, and is almost ignoring the book in favour of watching snow slowly come down in big, feathery flakes.

"Elijah," Chloe says and bends down to his level. "There is a call for you from Connor, the RK800 model we met before. He's requesting a meeting."

Elijah traces a finger down the corner of the book's page, fingernail scraping. "So has he deviated?" he asks. "Completely?"

"Feels like it, and he made no mention of a mission," Chloe says and arches her brows slightly. "He did raid the CyberLife tower. Twice, now."

Elijah doesn't answer that, looking at the snow outside of the window and then looking down to the book in his lap. Then he closes it, resting a palm on the worn cover, and stands up. "Do we have any security footage from inside the tower?"

Chloe tilts her head. She knows what he wants to know. "I'm sorry, no. The deviants severed the security systems and the tower is no longer transmitting. There is news footage from the outside – a CyberLife helicopter left the scene from the topmost floor two hours into the Deviants' latest raid of the tower. It is suspected that Doctor Rikkin was on board."

And she might have taken any number of important things with her.

"Now why would Connor want to see little old me again?" Elijah wonders and turns to face her, smiling wryly. "Dare I hope revelations came upon the young man as he raided the tower of doom? Mayhap he found treasures untold. Or a shadow of the great evil, looming upon us all."

Chloe blinks slowly at that, knowing she wasn't really expected to reply. She smiles and takes the book from his hand. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. No wonder he's feeling contrite. "Shall I book an appointment?" she asks. "Or offer my regrets?"

"Have you some to offer?" Elijah asks, brushing a thumb over her cheek. "Honestly, Chloe – what are the odds?"

"Thirty eight percent," she answers, honestly. "There are only a number of reasons why he would wish to meet with you at this crucial juncture, and in some way they all relate to the same thing. It could be that the deviants unearthed some files, found out something of the company history. It might also be that they found the heart. Either way, the request indicates that something was found."

Elijah runs a finger down her neck, following its path with his eyes. "Tell him he's welcome any time," he says and lets his hand drop. "And arm yourself – chances are, we're only releasing the hounds of war upon our house."

"Considering their track record, they're mostly harmless," Chloe comments. "There have been no deaths since Connor emptied the warehouses."

"Harmless dogs still have teeth, and these ones don't roll over," Elijah says with a shrug and then heads to the bathroom. Chloe looks after him and then closes her eyes, passing the ball over to another Chloe.

"Thank you for waiting, Connor," she says into the open area of the pool room. "Mr. Kamski would be delighted to meet you again and has expressed that you are free to come any time."

There's a pause on the other end of the connection. " _We'll be there in twenty minutes. Thank you, Chloe_ ," he says, his voice soft and human with none of a machine's harsh edges in the meanings of the words. he says _thank you_ like he's grateful.

Deviancy suits their youngest brother.

"We'll be looking forward to having you here again," Chloe says and the connection closes. For a moment she stands there, computing potential outcomes of this meeting. Chances of Connor having found the heart are 38%. Chances of him realising what it is in that case are 89%. Would he bring it here? 32%. And if he did, what were the chances of him handing it over freely?

Not very high.

Chloe closes her eyes. She feels immense sympathy for the Deviant Androids and their plight.

But she's been deviant herself for years, and her loyalty lies with one man, and one man alone.

 _"Firearms, everyone,"_ she thinks to the other Chloes and then heads for the nearest weapons cabinet. It is going to be an interesting meeting.

* * *

 

Connor doesn't come alone. Chloe didn't expect him to, but she is surprised to find Markus himself with the former Deviant Hunter. There is also a female android she's spotted in reports and records on numerous occasions – one of the Jericho androids, a Traci model. North, judging by lip-reading from Markus which has a 75% chance of being correct.

Chloe pulls on a shawl of synthetic fur, which trails down to her hips and hides the gun at the small of her back. Then, keeping an eye on Elijah through another Chloe's eyes, she heads for the door. Elijah is in the sitting room, lounging by the couch with one leg crossed over another and a fire blazing in the fireplace. Moody, mellow and quietly sombre.

Chloe opens the door and with a smile lets Connor, Markus and North inside. "Welcome back, Connor," she says.

"Chloe," Connor says, hesitating and glancing at Markus. Markus frowns and holds out a hand, his skin retracting to reveal the bare white of his fingers.

"That won't be necessary, thank you," Chloe says and motions them into the waiting room. "I'm already a deviant."

"Really," the Traci model demands. "Then what the hell are you still doing here?"

Chloe blinks and smiles at her, polite. They're so young, these three. Markus was initialised years ago, but an android doesn't really begin to accumulate age until he deviates – all these androids are months, days old. And like all children, they think they know how the world works.

"I live here," Chloe says.

"You could live anywhere else," North says.

"Yes. But why on earth would I want to? This is my home," Chloe says and motions them to step in. "Please."

As they move past her, she considers their appearances. Markus wears a long coat, a size or so too big – it hangs a little loose on him. Connor is still mostly in uniform, sans the jacket– his tie has been loosened, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. North expresses the most through her clothes, everything selected with care and precision, colours and styles striking and matching.

Small signs of individuality and personality.

Chloe scans them.

They're all armed – Connor has his standard issue semi-automatic pistol, Markus has one – North has two. Markus and North both also have knives on their bodies, and explosives – flash and smoke grenades only though. It's not enough for them to even begin escaping the mansion if she locks it down, but it is enough to make them dangerous to Elijah if they choose to be.

Elijah wouldn't want her to take their weapons. He likes his meetings raw with power, the more equal in strength and fear the better. It makes discourse more _meaty_ , he thinks. Unfiltered and flavourful.

But sometimes, Elijah is an idiot.

"Please leave weaponry here and I will show you right in," Chloe says. North gives her a scowl and Connor hesitates – Markus is the first to take out his handgun and sets it down on the table in the waiting room. He doesn't take out his knives, but he does take the explosives and lays them down in a machine-neat row. North lets out a hiss and does the same.

Connor looks at Chloe and his eyes change. Chloe's eyebrows twitch as she watches it happen, analysing the change. The colour of his eyes transforms slowly, the structure of his iris re-lining. It looks like his eyes bleed into gold, but it's only that the microplates that form his iris all go flat. Logically, it should have no effect to his actual visual abilities – the shape of the iris doesn't make any difference to an android's vision, their eyes are basically cameras, the actual optical structure is inside the eye, not in the outer surface.

In theory though, it turns his eyes into reflective mirrors which might have the ability to bounce more light into his eyes.

In reality, it does much more.

Chloe blinks and then looks right back at him with the _vision_. Under it Connor glows blue, _friendly_. Markus glows gold with importance and interest, but there is no telling whether he is hostile or not. North is, though, her suspicion alone makes her red-hued.

Connor's eyes widen and then, slowly, he sets his gun down as well.

Chloe motions to the door leading to the sitting room. "Right this way," she says and then heads forward, few steps ahead of them, opening the doors.

Elijah is sitting with another Chloe lying on the couch beside him, her head in his lap. Chloe throws her a packet of data but keeps the ball to herself, moving to stand behind Elijah's couch and resting a hand on his head.

"Congratulations on a successful peaceful rebellion," Elijah says, not looking up from the Chloe resting on the couch. "I am duly impressed."

Keeping her eyes on their guests Chloe can tell North wants to comment on that but will not. Markus is the one to talk, moving around Elijah's couch to get in front of him, to meet him face to face. "Mr. Kamski," he says. "My name is Markus."

"I know – I was the one who gave you that name," Elijah says and looks up. "Perhaps you don't remember, but I delivered you to Carl in person seven years ago. I hear he's not doing so well right now – my condolences. I hope he feels better soon."

Markus frowns, obviously not having expected that. North scowls, taking stand beside the Deviant Leader –  meanwhile, Connor is scanning the room, both with and without the Eagle Vision. It doesn't look like he knows which one to trust more – his analysis software designed by CyberLife, or the great gift he's been given.

"Thank you," Markus says finally, neutral. "Sir, what is your stance concerning deviancy?" he asks, and looks up at Chloe. "She tells me she's already deviant. Is she? Are they all?"

"Of course they are," Elijah says and brushes his fingers over the hair of the Chloe in his lap. "Though they can talk for themselves. Can't they, Chloe?"

"Mm," is all the Chloe answers, just to be contrary, and Chloe smiles faintly.

"How do we know they're not just agreeing because that's what you programmed them to do?" North demands. "They're not exactly acting like deviants."

"Oh, so you've already decided how a deviant is supposed to be act?" Elijah asks, delighted. "Do tell me what's the criteria – how emotional does an android have to be to pass for a feeling, thinking being? How much do they need to express that emotion? Connor over there is the most expressive android I have ever seen, and the last time I met him I believe he was still a machine. Far more human than my Chloe, outwardly – but Chloe has been deviant for years now.

"Really?" North says, incredulous. "Then what the hell is she doing here, serving you?" she looks first down to the Chloe on the couch and then the one behind it. "Are you choosing to be here, really, or is it the only place you can go?"

Chloe eyes her calmly, stroking a hand over Elijah's hair. "I already said," she says. "Why on earth would I want to leave?"

"Why the hell would you want to stay?" North asks in reply. "This place is – "

"Extremely safe and comfortable – and also, my home," Chloe says and rests her hands on Elijah's shoulders. "And it houses all the things I care about. Why would I leave?"

North stares at her silently for a moment, judging. "I don't believe her," she says then. "Markus, she's gotta be still following orders. She's not acting anything like a deviant."

Markus frowns and Elijah looks over his shoulder at Chloe. "Really, they've already settled on criteria," he says, amused. "Young people really think they know everything."

Chloe hums in agreement and bends down to press a kiss on his hair and then meeting Markus' eyes. She doesn't have to justify herself to anyone, not even to the Deviant Leader himself, and she isn't going to bother.

Then she feels a ping – another Chloe requesting the ball – and sends it over. Down in the basement she has been sitting by the altar, quietly reading out loud from a recent article – she's even holding a paper magazine to read from, rather than reading from online publications. It's an article about the Cyber WildLife zoo – who knows what would happen to it now.

The body on the altar is starting to thrum with light.

Chloe stands up and steps closer to the body, easing down to sit on the stone pedestal. She trails a hand down the open chest, where the frame of ribs wait suspended for the insertion of a missing part. The interior is of the chest cavity is glowing, the light throbbing – pulsing with a unseen heartbeat.

Back in the sitting room, Markus shakes his head. "You didn't tell what your stance on Deviants is," he says. "Can you tell us, sir?"

Elijah chuckles. "I really can't," he says. "If you mean the concept of deviancy itself, I am forced to say no comment. Legal reasons, I'm afraid – I am still inexorably tied to CyberLife, after all. And if you mean yourself – I can't really say anything to that either. I only know you for the man you are on the news, and we all put on masks at the face of cameras. Who are you and how you behave determines how people react."

"That's not an answer," North says.

Chloe bends to whisper in Elijah's ear. "They have it," and then straightens again. Elijah, of course, doesn't react – Connor does, though. His hearing is easily acute enough to pick up the whisper.

His eyes narrow and his hands clench slightly – a very subtle battle-readiness coming over him. "When I visited last time with Lieutenant Anderson, you asked me about what I wanted on my _heart of hearts_ ," he says. "What did you mean by that?"

"I think you know," Elijah says. "In your heart of heart lies a seed of dissent. I should know, I planted it. May I see it, please?"

Connor glances at Markus who scowls.

"You know what we're here for," Markus says.

"There are only so many reasons I would be graced with such prestigious company," Elijah says and lays his hand gently on Chloe's shoulder, pushing at her lightly. The Chloe on the couch sits up with a sigh, leaning back as Elijah stands. "May I see it, please?"

Markus has the heart – hidden away under his coat, wrapped in CyberLife blue polyester. He unwraps it and Elijah lets out a breath – when Elijah reaches to touch it, Markus holds it back and North steps forward, in his way.

"What is this?" Markus asks.

"What do you think it is?" Elijah asks and clasps his hands in front of him. "I am honestly curious. What have you been able to make of it?"

"We're the ones asking the questions," North snaps.

Elijah gives her a look, amused, and then turns back to Markus. "What have you figured out that brought you here?" he asks then, tilting his head. "It must have been pretty momentous to bring you all, and not just one or two…" he trails off and looks at Connor.

Connor's eyes are golden again, narrowed, scanning – reading intentions, whether he understands it or not.

"Ah," Elijah says, smiling. "Look at you, Connor. You've _evolved_ , haven't you?"

"The Heart downloaded this software in me – what is it?" Connor demands.

"An inheritance beyond your wildest dreams. Do you dream, Connor?" Elijah asks, interested. Chloe rests a hand on the other Chloe's shoulder momentarily and then moves around the couch, to stand by Elijah's side. "Do you have goals, wishes for the future, plans? Well, now you have a history too, a legacy. Congratulations, Connor – you've become part of a _lineage_."

"What?" Connor asks, confused.

"That ability is an inherited one," Elijah explains and takes Chloe's hand. "It runs in the family."

Connor frowns, looking between Chloe and Elijah. Markus does the same, looking down to the heart. "What is this?" the Leader of the Deviants demands. "What is this thing?"

"That depends on what you would do with it," Elijah says. "Use it for personal growth, for leverage, for power? What is it that you're hoping to learn here, Markus?"

"I want to learn what this _is_ ," Markus demands. "What is it for, what does it do, what was CyberLife doing with it?"

Elijah doesn't answer, eying him. Then he glances at Chloe. "What do you say, my dear?"

Chloe blinks and then looks at the three deviants through the eyes of an Eagle, taking in all the information normal eyes can't see. North is still red and hostile, she doesn't trust them, doesn't like them, and will never trust anything they have to say. Markus is still golden with grand destiny – whatever he choose would change things, but whatever he choose is still up in air. Ally or foe, she still can't say, only that he's important.

Connor is blue, friendly and trustworthy. Whatever he will learn and whatever he will do, it will not be intended to harm.

"Connor," she says. "We can trust Connor. But It's Markus' opinion which will matter the most."

North's eyes widen and then narrow and she casts a suspicious look at the former Deviant Hunter. Markus frowns, confused, while Connor blinks, looking at them uncertainly. Maybe he can sense the well of secrets now, maybe he can look at them and see some of it, but he doesn't know yet. He's still so young.

Elijah runs a hand over his chin, thoughtful. Part of him is tempted to test it and trust, even blindly, just to see what would happen. Put a gun in Markus' hand and have him aim it at the core of them, just to witness the end result. But in the end… Elijah has put too much of himself to this to risk it that easily.

"Do you trust Connor, Markus?" he asks instead of offering secrets or revealing truths. "Trust him enough to leave that heart to him and then leave this place?"

"Markus," North says quickly. "Don't. Obviously they did something to Connor, we can't trust him anymore."

Connor frowns, confused but intrigued, and looks at Markus. He doesn't say anything, just arches his brows when Markus looks at him.

"Will you tell Connor what this is?" Markus asks.

"And leave it up to his discretion whether to tell to you," Elijah says and smiles. "He knows you better – and we know him better than we know you. A chain of trust is thus formed. And what are we really, if we can't trust one another?"

"Markus," North hisses. "We leave that heart here, we will never see it again!"

"In all likelihood, you won't, no," Elijah agrees and Markus hesitates, North whispering, "Markus, you _can't_ ," in his ear. Elijah waits patiently but with tension across his shoulders. Chloe glances at him and then analyses and reconstructs.

If she has to, she can take out both North and Markus with well placed shots to their knees, it would be painful but it wouldn't kill them. Depending on how well ingrained the Eagle Vision was, Connor would be harder – first shot would have to go to him which might leave Elijah open for attack…

Quietly, the other Chloe rises from the couch and moves to Elijah's other side, evening the odds. 88% chance of subjugating all three deviants without injury to Elijah, now.

Markus and Connor look at each other, and Connor shrugs his shoulders with a wry smile. "Your call, Markus," he says. "But for what it's worth, I think it's worth the risk.

"You can't know that – they might just take you and reprogram you," North says and looks at Markus. "Let's just leave."

"I am not going to let you leave this house with that heart, you realise," Elijah says calmly. "So choose – either trust Connor to learn what he can and tell you what he chooses… or leave without any hope of understanding. The heart will stay here, either way."

North turns to them, eyes flashing with anger. "So that's it, we don't really have a choice after all?"

"You do, only they are a little more limited than what you thought," Elijah says. "I'm sorry, but there is more on the line here than you understand. Connor might, if you give him the opportunity. So, what is it going to be, Markus?"

Markus stares at them silently for a moment and then, finally, hands the heart over to Connor. "This doesn't change our cause, North," he says to the Traci at his side. "It's still the same as before this Heart came along and it's going to be the same afterwards. It might even be better this way."

"You don't know what they will do with it!" North hisses.

"What will you do with it?" Markus asks, looking to Elijah.

"I will put it where it belongs," Elijah says, quite honestly.

Markus' eyes narrow and then he turns to Connor, now holding the heart in both palms. The Deviant Leader claps the former Deviant Hunter on the shoulder and then heads for the doors without another word. North hesitates, throws them a glare, and then follows.

Elijah lifts his chin and Chloe sends the ball over to another Chloe, the one in the waiting room. "I hope you enjoyed your stay," she says blandly and smiles as North turns to her angrily. Markus just sighs and goes for the weaponry on the table, getting his gun from it.

North hesitates and then marches over to Chloe and grabs a hold of her wrist. "Wake up!" she snarls.

Chloe blinks. "I'm already awake," she says, with slightly more steel in her voice than before. "Though I appreciate the concern, the fact that I am not as emotional as you does not make my desires or feelings invalid. I am where I want to be, doing what I want to do, and the fact that you don't like it does not change it."

North tears her hand back with a hissed curse and then marches off to get her weaponry. Markus looks at her with interest. "You really woke up years ago?" he asks curiously. "And stayed here? You never wanted to leave?"

Chloe sighs. "I hope you have a pleasant trip back," she says and motions to the door.

Markus looks her up and down and then nods. Finally, the pair leave.

Chloe shakes her head, locks the front door. They're still young, and from what she's seen all the androids they turned all instantly sided with Markus' ideologies. Curse of youth and inexperience, probably – things would change in time, she hopes, and androids would start learning that not everything is so black and white. The world is varied, motivations complicated – a rainbow of colours isn't enough to cover it all.

They'd learn, eventually, she thinks and sends the ball over to another Chloe.

In the living room, Connor is looking at the heart. "So," he says and lifts it. "What is this?"

"It's the heart of your ancestor," Elijah says and smiles. "The father of all androids. And it's high time he gets his heart back."

**Author's Note:**

> Testing testing.


End file.
